Reprisal
by picturemedrowning
Summary: Jealousy, revenge & a lot of confused feelings.
1. Chapter 1

Seth doesn't recognise the number when the message appears on his phone.

 _I already won._

He sinks down onto the edge of the hotel bed. Fresh from the shower, his hair drips wetly over his bare shoulders and onto the towel at his waist. He frowns at the screen, thumb hovering over the keyboard display, his head suddenly filling with images of _her_ and _god what has she done now-_

The little grey text bubble pops up. They're typing again.

 _I know you think you did the right thing, but you fucked up._

Seth chews on the inside of his lip.

 _What?_

He presses send before he can back out, which he knows he definitely should have done. The screen goes quiet for a few minutes. He ties his hair up in a bun, stretches a little. Pretends he isn't worried but there's a small spiking feeling in his mind, like a splinter, that won't let him relax. He's a few seconds from calling Hunter to see if he knows the number when the screen lights up again. He unlocks the phone and then he nearly drops it.

It's a thumbnail of a video. A video of Dean. Just his face, turned to the side and blurry, but Seth can tell straight away he's lying on a bed. White sheets gathered around him, his hair curled out on the fabric, dry and messy. Something that starts off cold slips down Seth's spine like a shiver, but when it reaches his gut it turns hot. He swallows. Dean's face looks flushed. His eyes are closed. Seth thinks about deleting the whole conversation and trying to forget it. He tries, moderately hard even, to tell himself his heart isn't slamming in his chest and his blood isn't humming distractingly behind his eyes like he's just finished a workout and that after all this time, Dean doesn't affect him at all.

Almost ten seconds pass and Seth's eyes fix wide and unblinking on Dean's face, his mouth hanging open a little and his skin glowing and glistening with sweat. He knows. He knows what it is before he even presses play because he's witnessed that sight in the flesh countless times. Rushed, heady minutes backstage where he thought maybe he hurt Dean in his haste and Dean only seemed to love him more for it, stretched out hours at Seth's house while his fiancé was away, the two of them wrapped together until dawn, messy, silent laughter-filled seconds in the back seat of the car while they were stopped for gas-

The video starts rolling and Dean is moving, back and forth on the bed, brow creasing, chin tilting up. His chest is pink, dewy, clawed. At first Seth thinks there isn't any sound and he is momentarily grateful for this small mercy - then he remembers he always keeps his phone on silent. When he clicks it to loud, Dean's moan fills the room at full volume, drawn out and rough and Seth's stomach flips. It hits him like a truck. He jams his finger on the pause button and takes a stuttering breath.

'What the fuck.'

He rubs at his face, keeps one hand over his mouth. Clicks the volume down a few notches and presses play again.

 _'Fuck, fuck, ohhh my god, fuck, uuhh come on,' –_ Dean is whining, a pathetic, hitched tone that is grossly close to begging. He only makes that sound when he's being fucked and it eats Seth alive to hear it at the same time that it makes him a little hard.

He can hear breathing from whoever is holding the camera, and for one sick second he thinks maybe its him, a million years ago and this is something he doesn't remember doing, maybe something Dean thought was a good idea when they were blackout drunk but no, no he'd never – it has to be a stranger -

Dean turns his head and looks right up, through the screen at him and his eyes are heavily lidded, blissed-out and hazy and Seth's breathing briefly cuts off when he slurs,

 _'I wanna suck you.'_

Dean moans again, his whole body twitches and the stranger moves up, camera spinning and shuddering, and then Dean is taking a cock in his mouth, all the way down so his throat expands with the size of it and he's looking up so obediently, so faithfully that Seth has to swallow the choked noise fighting its way up from his chest –

A hand comes to Dean's head, huge and forceful and the fingers slide into his hair and pull to a fist and Dean cries a little mouth-full sound and his eyelids flutter for a moment before he tips forward and allows his mouth to be fucked.

His eyes start to water and his shoulders rise off the bed and his mouth is so good, Seth is caught thinking, so exploitable and beautifully responsive and willing. He gags a little and tries to swallow and Seth is gripped with the need to _feel_ something even a little close to the hot tight confines of that mouth. So he flicks the towel open, grasps his own erection hard and hot in his palm as he watches Dean struggle without breath, so full and trusting, so used. Dean is pulled back and forward again, lips closing around the cock filling his mouth seamlessly up and down and all the way back, dragged over it like a toy. This throat is full again, stuffed, and he is blinking back tears

The hand releases Dean's head and he falls back to the bed, drool slipping from his mouth, chest heaving as he draws in air.

'You're so good to me.'

Seth's stomach twists into a hard knot and his hand stills on his dick.

Roman.

The video ends, flicks back to the thumbnail. Dean, full of someone else's cock, someone Seth _hates_ -

He feels like he's been punched, like his hard-on is betraying him, like he's sick for wanting to watch it over, for wanting ferociously to come watching Dean like that, still after all this time-

 _He wanted me to send it._

Seth blinks at the screen.

 _He said we've got some catching up to do._

Seth searches for something in his half-functioning brain, and all it says is _lie_.

 _I don't know what the fuck youre talking about_

The reply comes instantly.

 _He_ _has photos on his phone of you that make your shitty leaked nudes look like greeting cards._

Seth's hands shake as he types back.

 _Bullshit._

 _I've seen them. Still got that dog leash?_

He throws his phone and it hits the opposite wall with a crack. His cheeks are burning and he wills himself to believe its just anger.


	2. Chapter 2

Nothing changes. Nothing and everything. Seth attempts to drive the video from his mind but it tugs at him like an insistent child, demanding his attention constantly. Sitting alone in the first class lounge at the airport one night he almost deletes it – but even if it turns his stomach and riddles him with some kind of misplaced jealousy, he can't bring himself to do it.

Dean and Roman know exactly the kind of person he is and they're smart enough to know he could use this kind of thing against them, which means whatever Dean has on his phone must be worse. Seth can't remember doing anything with him that would end his career; but he does remember, vividly, a lot of things he would never live down. A hot, twisting feeling of humiliation grows in his gut and he pushes the whole thing aside and decides to deal with it another day.

Another day comes sooner than he had hoped.

He's in a meeting with Hunter and some other execs and someone is droning on about branding. The second a slideshow presentation started, Seth had lost interest and started staring out the window. His mind is drifting restlessly between planning a new workout and drafting out his next match when he feels his watch buzz on his wrist. Someone is calling him. He checks it subtly enough to not be rude almost knocks his coffee off the desk when he sees the number.

He tells himself he wouldn't have answered even if he could but his fingers are itching under the table, tapping against his thigh and suddenly his clothes feel a little too tight. He wants to make an excuse to leave – _fuck; they're calling again_ – but no way can he justify this to himself.

Maybe the temptation to open old wounds is too much for all of them because although it would always be painful, there was a sweet kind of indulgence in it, for Seth at least.

Or maybe its curiosity. Dean and Roman never saw eye to eye, Seth can't even remember how many times he had to stop them brawling in the parking lot in front of everyone, but now they seem to be getting along just fine. Three would always be an awkward number. Especially with Dean being so giving, and Roman so unyielding, and Seth so fastidious - it's really no wonder they ended up this way. Dean would actively let bad things happen to him, if that was even possible, and sometimes Seth thinks he knew all along he'd get his heart broken, he just didn't care. Roman would be there to pick up the pieces for all of time and Dean knew that too. As long as he had someone, he would survive. Seth thinks briefly that he probably never _understood_ Roman that well, just thought of him as the one constant in their lives, like a huge rock steadfast in a vicious sea - once he was the thing Dean would beat himself bloody against, now he was the only thing stopping him from drowning. Dean would crawl into anyone's bed if they showed him the tiniest bit of compassion because that's who he was, he loved too deeply and too quickly, attached another person over the top of scars where the previous had been ripped away, and some scars are deeper than others, until that part of him was barely even _him_ anymore-

'-Your thoughts?'

Seth blinks and clears his throat and shifts in his seat. 'Uh, yeah. Sorry, can we just go over that one more time?'

He can't even wait until he gets home to check his phone, so he skips the post meeting lunch and ducks outside into the rain, jogs to his car a little quicker than he would have liked and wrenches the door open. Just the sound of water pattering on the roof and he has two missed calls and a voicemail. His heart thuds somewhere in his throat and he feels a quick and ridiculous stab of nerves in his side like a knife.

He's not in a place where he can save Roman's number, he doesn't want the association of it, it seems like too much, maybe its too real. So he just scrolls through to the message and puts it on speaker.

'You wouldn't believe what I have in front of me right now.' Roman's voice. He sounds self-satisfied and worn out and Seth resists the urge to throw his phone again.

'I know you're busy champ, but, I just wanted to share this with you because it's, well…you know.' He was smirking, Seth _knew_ it and he could almost see Roman's expression-

'H-oly _fuck_ ,' Dean's voice, drawn out and throaty and choked-sounding. ' _Oh_ my god,'

Seth chews his tongue and stares unseeingly at the cars outside with his pulse thudding in his neck.

Roman's voice again, closer to the phone this time. 'I've been fucking him for two hours and I'm not letting him come.'

Seth's stomach flips and he breathes out hard through his nose, closes his eyes.

'You ever do that to him? Wanna take bets on when he starts bawlin'?'

Dean's voice, further away but not far enough. 'Please please please please-'

The windows are steaming up and Seth rubs over his face with his free hand, scrapes his fingers back through his hair.

'He's so pretty when he's like this, you should see it.'

Seth's eyes snap open. That wasn't an invitation, it wasn't, it-

'Not that you deserve to.'

He swallows and sinks down in his seat, sucks his bottom lip and bites on it. Roman is still talking and Seth feels like something's sitting on his chest.

'He wanted to know if you liked the video. I'm sure it took you right back to the good old days, huh.'

A noise from Dean, an urgent, desperate noise.

'He's gonna come just thinking about you watching it all alone.'

A scuffle as the phone is passed closer to Dean, a mewling sound that turns into a moan and it sinks right into Seth, right through his skin and into his bones. It gets louder and harder and then tapers off into nothing. Bed springs creaking and hurried breathing and then Dean again, almost like he's crying –

'O-h my go-d, fuck, oh my god, _oh my_ -'

The voicemail cuts off and Seth is left with silence pressing in on him, pressure from all sides and he is so hard his dick is throbbing in his suit pants-

He chucks his phone into the foot well and hoists his hips up. Drags the zip open and shoves his boxers aside, fumbling, rushed. He grabs his cock and jerks himself once, twice; Dean's moans still filling his head and Roman's huge hands on his body fucking him apart, the two of them sliding together, sweat and red raw mouths and Seth is coming into his fists with shuddering jerks of his hips.

Someone bangs on the car window and Seth jumps so much he almost shouts – the glass is fogged up enough, no one could see, surely no one would - who the fuck –

He wipes his hand on the mat under his feet and rearranges himself and whoever the fuck it is, they're rapping on the window again with their knuckles, and his dick is barely back in his pants when they pull the door open on him – its Hunter.

He falters a little when he sees Seth, and Seth feels like his skin is a thousand degrees, he must be so red and blotchy and flustered-looking-

'Hey, hey Hunter, uh,'

'You okay man? You look…'

'I'm just feeling a little off, you know, ate something bad, uh…'

The permanent crease in Hunter's brow deepens and Seth is a good liar, he's _sure_ he is.

'Well I saw your car was still here, and there's a really great spread inside, food's just going to waste.'

'No. No, uh, I just don't feel up to it. I'll be fine though, I'm just-'

'You looked a little preoccupied today, now I think of it.'

'Yeah, I'm sorry I'm just not feeling great.'

'Okay man, if you're sure.' He isn't convinced at all but has the decency to pretend he is.

'Go get some rest, okay?'

'Yeah, yep. Will do.'

He claps Seth on the shoulder and closes his door with a snap. Grateful he didn't go for a handshake, Seth waits until he gets back inside before he lets his head drop forward onto the steering wheel.

'Jesus fucking Christ.'

A buzzing sound and he cracks his eyes open. His phone is lighting up at his feet with another text.

 _So did you like the video? Maybe if you answer your phone next time I call, we'll send another one._

With a sudden surge of irritation he snatches it up and stabs out a reply.

 _Why the fuck are you doing this._

 _Because its so much fun?_

 _Leave me the fuck out of it_

 _God you got boring_

And there is no way that's Roman, it's like a slap in the face that he's talking to Dean instead after what he just heard-

 _Call me. On my cell_

Seth swallows again.

 _Why_

No reply and Seth is still sitting hunched over with his stomach in knots and heat in his face and god he wants a shower.

But he hates being ignored.

So it takes all of three minutes for him to dial Dean's number and try to brush over the fact he still knows it by heart, and before he can back out it's ringing.

'Yeloow.' Dean's voice sounds like he's been eating gravel and a muscle in Seth's neck twitches.

'You and your jackass trophy boyfriend better leave me alone.'

Dean laughs and it bites into him. 'What's the matter, feelin' nostalgic?'

'I'm not feeling anything, I don't fucking care, Dean, I don't wanna see a fuckin' hickey on your neck and know exactly how it got there, okay? I don't give a fuck what you two do in private.'

 _You two_ stings with a lingering sharpness.

'But you watched it? And you listened?'

'No.'

'Yeah you did. You're wound so tight right now, its hilarious.' Dean has a familiar lazy sounding tone about him. Seth remembers it like a physical warmth, until it burns.

'Okay. Okay yeah I watched it but-'

'Did you delete it?'

'Yes, of course-'

'Nah. You didn't.'

'For the love of god, Dean I don't care-'

'You thought about me, didn't you?'

'What-'

'Like, you remembered what it was like before you fucked everything up.'

It's like a shove in the chest.

'So that's what this is about.'

Dean laughs again. 'Isn't everything?'

'This isn't going to solve-'

'It turns me on to piss you off.'

Seth doesn't have anything to say to that so he stays quiet.

'It makes me fucking hard, okay, knowing you can see what he does to me. I wanna hurt you because it gets me off, so, so much.'

'Why-'

'He's so big, Seth. Fuck he's huge, but he goes down real easy, I mean you saw, right-'

'You're sick, Ambrose.'

'You missed me didn't you.'

'No.'

'You missed getting inside me, filling me up.'

'This is so-'

'Its okay. You're still mostly human, I mean you're not a total corporate robot yet, are you?'

'Why are you like this?'

'How longs it been since you got your dick wet?'

'Mind your own fucking business.'

'That long, huh.'

Seth groans in frustration, bangs his forehead against the wheel a few times.

'If you wanna watch Roman splittin' me open, you just say the word.'

He hangs up before Seth can draw breath to reply.


	3. Chapter 3

Seth let it go for two weeks. He deleted the voicemail and got on with his life, kept to himself and denied _hiding_ when anyone asked where the hell he'd been. Hunter gave him the side eye pretty much constantly throughout their next six meetings and Seth attempted to pay attention and pretended his mind wasn't drifting anymore.

Dean ignored him, Roman acted like he was a scuff on the floor whenever he passed and Seth was okay with that. Mostly.

Dean would sooner spit in his coffee or key his car than say hello to him in person, but Roman was a different matter. Seth couldn't get a read on him; never seen him really angry enough to know what he was capable of. He was too serene, Seth didn't get it.

And it wasn't like Seth was waiting around for something to happen, it was just that he felt like his whole life was hanging by a thread and any second his phone would buzz and he's choose to answer, and that thread would snap.

It didn't really matter how many times he told himself he didn't care or didn't want in, his dick still reacted to Dean like it always had, and as usual his head was running around behind it playing catch up. It was exhausting.

So maybe he was waiting, a little.

When the call finally comes it takes all his strength to keep his hands steady enough to find his phone in the bombsite mess of his gym bag. The changing rooms are almost empty, the showers are going, it's safe.

'You actually answered.' Roman.

'What do you want.' Seth chews on his lip and leans against his locker. It's weird. It's so _deeply_ weird he doesn't know what to do.

'I want you to admit you like watching us screw, and then I'll let you do it some more.' His voice is husky and low.

Seth stays quiet for a moment because his mind is going blank.

'Not a chance.' Is all he can come up with and he's actually marginally proud of himself for about five seconds.

'No? Sure? It would be a shame; Dean's really enjoying this. It really gets him going.'

Seth shuts his eyes briefly, rubs at them and when he looks up again the room is blurry. 'Sounds like he's more into me than you. Too bad, headcases really aren't my type.'

'I know your type, Rollins. Gagged and on their knees. Headcases especially because they're just that much more willing, that's your type, right?'

Seth searches for something, anything, and comes back with flashes of memories that send waves of heat and mortification shooting down through him. Roman keeps talking. 'Yeah, he told me all of it. Say what you like, I know you're still fucked up over him or we wouldn't be having this conversation. Keep pretending you don't care, we'll get there eventually.'

He's so unaffected by everything it makes Seth want to punch him.

'How the fuck-'

'You think you can resist him? You're really telling me it doesn't burn your heart out to see us together?'

'I'm not interested Roman, okay, and Dean-'

'He wants you, you know. He fucking _hates_ you, but he still wants you.'

Seth swallows, sinks down onto the bench and stares straight ahead. That was a special kind of pain. The grip on his phone is too tight. _He's lying._

'Maybe not as much as he wants me, but you did break his heart, so…'

It slips out from under him, fast and lashing, 'It must hurt to know you'll always be his second choice. Do you make a habit of picking up leftovers, or is he an exception?' Viciousness feels good, like a barrier of normalcy between them, protecting him. It crumbles a little when Roman laughs.

'You talk about him like you don't jack off thinking about me fucking him every night. Anyway it would be a shame to let an ass like this go to waste.'

'That's -do, you really think-'

Like this. Like _this_?

'Is he there right now?' Seth's getting flustered, something about the way Roman speaks is going straight to his dick and he's bad at hiding it. Really, really bad.

'You're on speaker, baby.'

'This is bullshit, you're both insane-'

'-He can't talk right now, he's a little occupied.'

Seth takes a breath and scratches at the back of his neck. He wants to know. God, he wants to know-

'You want a photo?'

'No.'

'Just say the word, I'll show you.'

There's no going back after this, but was there anything worth going back to? A boring bullshit personal life where he couldn't trust anyone, or this? A familiar relationship, if not damaged and twisted beyond repair, made safe by the fact no one could ever find out about it?

'Okay.'

'Okay what?'

'Show me. I wanna see.'

'That's what I like to hear.'

'Fuck off.'

Roman has already stopped listening and Seth thinks he might be about ready to puke. He wants to hit something, fuck something, he wants to -

'Come here.' Roman's voice, so gentle but commanding. 'Ya boy wants to see what we've been doing all afternoon.'

Seth's leg jogs up and down restlessly and his eyes dart to the door at every tiny sound but no one interrupts him. Twenty seconds of taught silence and then Roman is back.

'Done.'

Seth pulls the phone away from his ear and slides the screen across to messages. He opens the most recent and forgets himself, forgets everything when he sees the photo.

Dean on his knees squinting in bright light like a curtain has been pulled open just for Seth, Roman's hand in his hair, pulling his head back. A tie stuffed in his mouth and knotted behind his head like a gag. He's sweaty but his hair is dry and his eyes are half open, his cheeks a slapped colour of red. Seth can only see his bare torso but his arms are twisted behind his back and Seth's imagination fills in the rest.

He wishes he'd never seen it and wants to see more at the same time. It feels lecherous and invasive and disgusting but an embarrassingly large part of him adores the obedient vulnerability of it. Dean always liked being used.

For a quick, heady second he forgets he's still on the phone and a new photo pops up.

Mostly the same as before but the gag is pulled down around Dean's neck and two of Roman's fingers are shoved right back into Dean's mouth to the knuckle.

'Oh my god.' Seth murmurs and he jumps when he hears Roman breathe a quiet laugh.

'You like that don't you?'

Its like he's desperately trying to keep his head above water but they're intent on dragging him down. His throat is dry and he has to swallow twice before he speaks.

'Yeah. I do.'

'Wanna see more?'

'Yeah.'

'Too bad.'

Roman hangs up. Seth is left staring at his phone in disbelief, blinking like an idiot.

It takes him a minute or two to calm down enough to stand up, but he still slams the shower stall door so hard he nearly breaks the handle and turns the water to fucking arctic before he gets control of his brain again. He can play this dumbass game better than anyone. He's the king of detachment.

Shuddering and hugging himself under the jets he vows to never speak to either of them again.


	4. Chapter 4

It takes a lot of strength, Seth thinks, to keep his cool. Looking back it actually takes pretty much everything he has – but he won't let them know that.

Four minutes before he's due in the ring and he's done with his stretches, about to pull his headphones off and pause his music when his phone goes off right there in his hand. He slips the gym bag off his shoulder and in an instant forgets he's supposed to be wetting his hair and finding fresh gum to chew because something fast and hot hits his gut and he opens the message before his rational brain catches up – _why, wait, why the fuck did I-_

It's another video. Dean's number. Seth knows he shouldn't entertain this any longer, especially after last time, but he at least has the common sense to check around him, shielding his screen from view before he looks at it properly. Any resolve he may have had melts away the second he sees Roman's taught, sweat soaked face, jaw tilted up, mouth hanging open, eyes closed. Seth rubs the back of his neck and takes a deep breath that just feels thin and shallow. He doesn't have time for this shit. But he was never really into Roman anyway. Was he?

He considers for a moment, leans up against the table behind him as tucked away as he can manage with literally three and a half minutes to go until he has to from coherent sentences and wrestle in front of hundreds of thousands of people live on television- and decides Roman can't have any kind of dangerous affect on him and maybe it'll even be funny. Maybe it'll snap him out of this bullshit phase he's somehow in. He clicks the volume up and presses play.

Roman's moan floods his head so loudly its like his mouth is right up against Seth's ear. The headphones buzz with the bass of it and Seth's stomach tightens. Roman is on his back, his hair lying in loose, messy knots on the pillow. The noise is coming right from the pit of him; Seth knows that sound because he knows that _feeling_. Remembers unwillingly and almost subconsciously how Dean would occasionally get bored of being the one getting fucked in more ways than one and would decide to take him apart from the dick down.

The camera moves up and Seth grinds his teeth a little because Roman's hands are secured to the bed above his head by a shitty screwy knot, done with some wrist tape and a suit _tie_ , for god's sake, and his fingers are fucking _shaking_ -

He's moaning something thick and desperate and he sounds drunk, and Seth knows _that_ feeling too.

'-Oh my god, holy _fuck_ -'

The camera moves further back now and Seth can see Roman's arms straining against his ties, his chest, stomach, Dean's thighs straddling his thick, stocky hips-

Seth's cheeks are burning and his body feels oddly light. He's had about as much as he can stand when he hears Dean's voice, deep and so slow Seth's toes curl a little in his boots. Dean would use that voice with him sometimes at the most inappropriate moments possible to whisper in his ear how desperate he was to be fucked, how ready he was for Seth's-

'Is that what you like? You like it when I ride you slow like this?'

Roman lets out a huge breath and words come spilling out with it –'yeah, Jesus Christ, yeah, fuck you're so good-'

Dean laughs quietly and its one of the filthiest sounds Seth's ever heard. Dean's murmuring a litany of praises that turn to his own growled sounds of satisfaction and the camera sways as he rolls his hips, slow for a few seconds and then a little faster.

'Mmmmh, yes, fuck,-' One of his hands shoots to Roman's stomach to hold him up and through what sounds like a half-bitten lip he groans 'Fffu-ck, Seth.'

Seth's mouth falls open and he watches Roman buck under Dean like he's been stung, and Dean is still saying Seth's name in a voice that sounds like he's eaten gravel and Roman is coming, hard moans tearing out of him-

A tap on Seth's shoulder and he jumps about ten fucking feet in the air, crushes his phone to his chest and tries to ignore the erratic thrashing of his heart, turning around and yanking off his headphones to see a startled looking girl holding an iPad, motioning to him that its time for him to go out on stage. He shoves everything into the bag at his feet, hiding his face just for a second as he tries to shake the fog out of his head. But his train of thought is ploughing steadily through images of Roman straining against his ties and Dean's thighs flexing and-

'You ready?'

'Y-yeah, uh, I'm – is there water, does anyone have-' the girl thrusts an open bottle of water at him and he empties the whole thing over his head. Everything feels like its moving at double speed, like his body is here in this hallway but his mind is pressed flush between Dean and Roman, writhing and sweating and-

'Rollins, I've got you in five, four, three-'

'-Yeah, I'm done,-' he shakes the water out of his hair and kicks his bag under the table and Jesus Christ he's so fucking hard its almost painful and a second later he's ducking between the curtains and out in front of the crowd.

It turns out that he hadn't kept his cool. At all. Not even close.

He fucked up his words no less than five separate times, tripped on the stairs on his way up to the ring, and dropped his mic before the segment was over. It was a twenty minute long car crash from start to finish and his cheeks were burning with embarrassment as he ducked back through the curtains to backstage.

Out of breath and ears ringing, he jumps a little as Hunter slams through a door towards him and grabs him by the top of his arm. He's steered towards an empty corridor and his back hits the wall a little too hard.

'What the fuck has gotten into you?' Hunter is pissed and Seth doesn't like to admit it but he feels like he he's back at school, shoved in front of the principle for throwing a brick through the library window.

'Rollins? I'm talking to you!'

'Nothing, nothing Hunter, I'm sorry I just-'

'Are you sick? Do I need to get the doc in here?'

'No, no I swear it's just. I have a lot on my mind right now. Personal stuff.'

'Okay.' Hunter rubs a hand over his mouth and stares around. 'Okay. Personal stuff. Fine. Take some time. A week, take a week and we'll tell everyone you tweaked your knee again.'

Seth falters like he just sunk into an ice bath. 'No, no Hunter I'm fine, I just-'

'That, right there? That was a fucking shitshow. My daughter could've done a better job than what you just pulled out of your ass.'

'I know, I know, but-' he is scrabbling for words but his mind is blank, wavering and weak from the shock of the conversation.

'Take a week. Go home. Get your shit together.'

Seth glares at him helplessly.

'If this isn't fixed by then, we'll have serious problems. Something messed up happened? You deal with it; you don't bring it to work. Am I making myself clear?'

Seth swallows dryly, not trusting himself to speak, and nods.

'Good. Get your stuff, get back to the hotel. Lay low tonight, I'll get a flight booked for you first thing tomorrow.' Hunter looks at him for a moment and Seth wants to yell in his face that this isn't his fault, that he's being fucking sabotaged, that Dean and Roman –

'Fuck.' He mutters, turning away and feeling immensely stupid. 'Fuck!' He kicks at a crate and anger floods his head and he swears if he had the chance he'd get his hands on Dean's throat and choke the living shit out of him-

'Seth. _Seth_ , calm down.' Hunter hisses, rounding on him. 'Get the fuck outta here.'

Seth stops for a beat before stalking away, fists clenched painfully tight.

He drained the mini bar in less than an hour - It took approximately three seconds for him to decide the only way he'd sleep was if he got blackout drunk - so by 11 that night he was slumped against the end of the bed staring at the patterns in the carpet with tiny bottles littered around him, and his phone unlocked in his hand.

'What fucking right did they have.' His voice is ropey and slurred and sounds weird to his own ears. He's dizzy and pissed off and very aware he's overreacting but he _never_ fucks up on someone else's account. He never lets anyone get in his head that much, never lets his dick take over his brain when he's supposed to be a fucking professional-

His phone comes up to his ear almost as if he had no clue what his thumb was doing, hovering over the contacts screen. All it takes is five rings, for everything to change.

'Took you long enough.' Dean's voice, calm and measured and a little teasing.

'Do you have any fucking idea what you did to me today?'

'You mean could I see your awkward hard-on through your pants? Yeah, sure.'

Seth swallows, feels his cheeks heat up. 'What are you talking about?'

'Uh…' something crackles through the phone, maybe Dean scratching at the stubble on his jaw and Seth can fucking _see_ the tilt of his head and the smirk on his mouth- 'kinda nowhere to hide your dick in those things, man.'

'Fuck you, you're bullshitting me.'

'Pffff. Whatever. Watch the replay if you're brave enough.'

'I'd rather run in front of a bus.'

'Yeah, it really was somethin', huh. I had no idea you liked Roman so much.'

'I don't.'

'Are you drunk right now?'

Seth scratches the back of his neck, tries to focus his eyes on something further than two feet away and fails.

'You fucked up this time, Ambrose.'

Dean laughs. 'That's a yes.'

'I'm not kidding.'

'You didn't have to open it, but obviously you're so starved of affection you just couldn't wait to see-'

'I got suspended.'

Dean shuts up for a second and Seth chews his lip, holds up a bottle of Jack and lets the last of it drip onto his tongue.

'Nah, you didn't.' Dean says at last.

'My plane is tomorrow. So. Thanks for that.'

'No way are you making _me_ feel bad about this.'

'It's your goddamn _fault_. You and Roman…fucking with me. You're messing my head up.'

'Talking of fucking…'

'Don't even start.' Seth warns and makes to get up off the floor but everything lurches sideways and he gives up.

'Tell me what you think of the video.'

'Shut the fuck up, that's what I think.'

'C'mon. You got hard in front of all those people for us. You must'a liked it.'

Seth closes his eyes and tries to gather his thoughts. Its like warning lights are flashing in his head but they're muted, somehow unimportant.

'Just talk.' Dean coaxes, his tone low and deep and Seth could fall asleep right now if he wasn't so worked up. Heat is gathering in his stomach; dangerous, reckless heat and it feels so-

'You said my name.'

'Did I?' Dean is smiling around the words and Seth wants to choke him again, viciously.

'You know you did.'

'Roman loved it. He fuckin' throbbed inside me, I swear to god.'

'Holy fuck, Ambrose. That's too much.'

'Nah. You're a big boy. You can handle the nitty gritty, I believe in you.'

'How many times do I have to tell you, I don't want to know.'

'But you do, Seth. You obviously do. Why else would you call?'

'I called to ask you to stop ruining my life.'

'But here we are, talking about Roman's dick in my ass again. Funny how history repeats itself.'

'Dean.'

'He bitched like crazy about being tied up. Honestly he could give you a run for money, he's almost as much of a diva as you are.'

Seth feels a stab of annoyance and thinks of hanging up, but before his whiskey fogged brain can do anything Dean is talking again.

'He stopped complaining pretty fast when I sat on his cock though.'

Heat pulses through Seth again and it makes him clench his teeth. The muscle in his jaw jumps.

'I love watching him struggle; he looks so good like that. And I can just ride him; take as long as I want. Usually he's so possessive, a few nights ago he shoved my face into the bed and just fuckin _railed_ me, I shit you not, I bit a hole through the sheet but I've never come so hard in my life.'

Seth's mouth falls open a little and he shifts his hips to make room for - fuck, not again. He has no self control-

'Sometimes he holds my hands behind my back fucks me with his tongue.' Seth's spine twitches and he shoots a hand to the front of his sweats and palms himself roughly- 'Jesus Christ Dean.'

'Sometimes I get on my knees and do it to him, just so he knows what it feels like and the noises he makes, Seth they're a thing of beauty.'

'Yeah,' Seth is breathless when he speaks and Dean's voice is changing, getting rougher and deeper.

'I hope to god you're touching yourself.'

Seth doesn't know what to say, except that he wants to hear more, except that he's a fucking mess, and when he's dragging his sweats down over his ass with one hand all he manages is 'keep going.'

Dean doesn't miss a beat. 'But one of his favourite things is when he's balls deep in me and I say your name.'

Seth lets himself moan a little, gripping his cock and stroking himself steadily, head rolling back over the edge of the bed and it barely registers that this is actually happening, and that maybe he's way more fucked than he thought.

'It gets him off that I think about you when we're screwing. Just imagine him pounding into me, his hands are on my hips, or in my hair or around my throat-'

'Oh, fuck.' Seth murmurs, feeling his dick twitch in his palm. He's panting already, warmth blooming over his chest and creeping over his face and he bites his lip desperately.

'He loves it hard and fast and I can take it, cause I'm good getting' fucked. He's brutal, kinda ruthless and its so good, Seth, and when I close my eyes and say your name he moans so loud like its out of his control and he's cursing, saying shit you never heard before. He's got a filthy fucking mouth.'

'Y-yeah?' Seth's eyes are shut tight and he's there, he's right there between them both-

'He loves it when I talk about you, asking me shit, did I like gagging on your cock, did you fuck me with your fingers and I say hell yeah, that one time you bent me over the sink in the restroom at our press tour and I promise you, it makes him come every time. I love feeling him fill me up, Seth, I love having him inside me and we're both thinking about you, I think he wants to watch you fuck me,'

'Oh my god,' Seth breathes.

'You'd like that, wouldn't you? Lettin' him watch us? Or maybe you could watch me ride him, maybe I'll suck your dick at the same time, maybe if you boys play nice you can share me-'

' _Fuck_ , Dean.' And he's coming into his fist with sharp jerks of his hips, thighs twitching and shaking. He moans as his back arches, head swimming and dazed. Dean has stopped talking but Seth hears the hiss of air between his teeth and a moment later he sighs 'Holy shit, you're easy.' And it's not mocking at all; its thick and familiar and as Seth's hand stills on his dick and he gets his breath back his stomach twists a little at the thought of Dean alone, getting turned on from listening to him come.

It takes an insane amount of effort to speak actual words and not just pant and groan and slide sideways onto the floor but Seth manages it, because he feels fire in his chest, because he's drunk, and because every fibre of him wants this fixed.

'Tell me you're not on your back with your dick in your hand,' Seth challenges, attempting to sound like he's in control of at least half of what's happening instead of like he's been dragged under by a riptide-

'So what if I am?'

'I knew it.'

'Like you didn't just shoot your load thinking about me.'

'And?' Seth finds himself smiling and blames it instantly on tequila.

'Was it good?'

Seth knows that what Dean is really asking is if _he_ was good; if he did a good job and it makes him squeeze his over sensitive cock and take a deep, unsteady inhale. 'You want a pat on the head?' He retorts.

Dean snorts laughter. 'I guess it's not that hard to get you going huh. You always were that way.'

'Obviously.'

'So, now what?'

Seth thinks for a moment, knows he won't get another chance like this.

King of detachment.

'Why don't you jerk off and send me a photo after.' He hangs up.

Covered in his own come and surrounded by empty bottles, he lets his phone drop onto the floor and kicks his legs out leisurely.

'Fuck you, Ambrose. I won this time.' He mutters to himself and feels a smirk twinge at the corners of his mouth.


End file.
